


Return of the Wench

by indigo_illusion



Series: A Vampire Novel and a Positive Attitude (or The Exceptional Crook & Cow Girl Wench) [3]
Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chameleon - Freeform, Character Death, F/M, First Season, Gen, Minor Character Death, POV First Person, Secret Crush, Troubles (Haven)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_illusion/pseuds/indigo_illusion
Summary: Set before, during and after Season 1 Episodes 7-9.Duke is asked for a favor by Eleanor Carr (of all people) but it becomes less of a Thing when he finds out his favorite Havenite is returning; but then Troubles, because Haven.





	1. This is Happening...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duke finds out his long lost crush is coming back, and that he's expected to help with Audrey's birthday celebrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated slightly because I realized I'd mixed up some dates with regards the timeline a friend and I came up with, and how the days run in 2010.

Of all the most unexpected calls that I could get on any given day Eleanor Carr has to be the most but there I am being handed The Gull phone and hearing her voice on the other side of it. She sounds tense but the few times I’ve interacted with her face to face that’s generally been the case. I don’t know if it’s just her natural state of being or if it’s talking to me: the awful Crocker boy who used to hang around her daughter way too much.

“Mr Crocker,” she says when I say standard business greeting number 2.

“Duke, surely, Mrs. Carr,” I’m sure being overly amiable will irritate her so that’s what we go with.

She coughs, slightly, “Then Eleanor, I suppose.”

Maybe she’s actually going to grace my establishment with her presence for something important and wants to make a reservation seeing as I sincerely doubt she wants to make use of any courier services she may or may not have heard about, “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m not sure if you realize Audrey Parker’s birthday is coming up,” she says, which is right, I didn’t but it’s not as if we’ve ever talked about that sort of thing.

“I did not.” So, doing something here then?

“I’m organizing a get together for her, and I’d like it to be a surprise.”

I’m instantly sure that’s going to go over as well as me running into Helena again, but we’ll see. Maybe Audrey will surprise _me._

“Do you want to reserve part of the back here then?” 

“No,” she says, severely, “I actually have an invitation for us to go to _Carpenter’s Knot_ for the entire weekend prior, not this weekend but next: the 10th. _”_ Really? Though I stop myself from sounding skeptical and overly curious, it’s especially easy because she plows on with her ~~demands~~ requests, “I know Audrey would want you to be there, and so I thought perhaps you could come up with some reason, she would accept, to get her to the place so that we can surprise her. I trust you’d be able to come up with something.” 

“ I imagine I can manage that,” I agree, “When are you intending to  actually get there, the Friday or the Saturday?” 

“ Friday morning,” she replies, “Bright and early,  and staying through Sunday. ” 

Well, that’s better than Friday night given the later closing, but still there’s a lot of work usually.

“ Alright. I’ll pull favors for a skiff and get her there even if I have to hog tie her.” 

Ah, the lovely pained noise that  elicits.

“I’m joking, Mrs—Eleanor.”

“ I see,” she responds, tersely, “Also, my daughter will be back in Haven by then and accompanying me,” I can feel a beating in my ears at that. Did she really just say... _Julia?_

“I see,” I echo, waiting for the threat of some kind.

“I trust you can manage your best gentlemanly behavior,” she manages not to have the phrase choke in her mouth.

I  bite back a couple of responses to that lest my invitation be rescinded and she tries to recruit Nathan to pull the wool, “I will be the model of good citizenry I assure you.” 

“Good.  I will see you Saturday.” 

“ Yes. You will.”  My hand is shaking when I return the phone to it’s cradle.  _Julia._ I haven’t seen her in years. I wonder if she...then I cut that train of thought off as best I can. It sometimes seemed like she had a crush on me back when we were working on the old girl, and I cannot deny the fantasies. 

“ Are you alright, Boss Man?” One of the bartenders, Shelley, asks from nearby. I really hope she works out. She seems like she has a good head on her shoulders.  My brain swirls from Julia speculation to the fact that once upon a time if she was not working for me I would have tried to get with her, and then shakes it’s way back. 

“Hm?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she explains.

“ Sort of,” I tell her, “Did not expect that woman to ask me for a favor.” 

“Lucrative?” she inquires, “Or should I not ask?”

“Maybe,” I tell her, not that it might be money fashion in this case, but I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Having Julia back as a friend would be more than brilliant, and the risk of cocking that up with asking for a step up in the relationship that she might get offended by. I don’t know if that’s something I’m willing to go to, especially as my history is so much worse than it used to be.

Let’s just focus on the Audrey Factor that is now there. Getting her to _Carpenter’s Knot_ could well be as easy as something weird and Trouble-like is happening out there, but I also suppose I should get her a gift. But...what?

 


	2. Sketchy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They always think he wants to help.  
> Most of the dialogue in this chapter is lifted directly from the 7th episode of season 1 "Sketchy".

 

Another day, another possible Trouble? Nathan and Audrey waltzing into The Gull and directly for me certainly makes me think that, but I really don’t want to get roped into anything. Especially with the work on the back deck that I’ve been sectioning off.

“Oh, Haven’s finest,” I tell them when I see them, but I have to add, “You know, I could add “ass” to that, “Haven’s finest ass,” and it would still work for both of you. Just in different ways,” at least for now. There’s hope they’ve just stopped in to grab lunch and wanted to say hello, but, “Uh, you guys want something to drink? Beer? Wine? Clamato?”

“Or you could tell us what’s behind the tarp,” Audrey says.

Hm. So, is this her being distracted or what-- “Well, that’s...” what can I say to help this along? If they get mad and walk off there’s no help required, “that is the central mystery of life on the water, isn’t it, Detective Parker? What is behind the tarp? _What_ is behind the tarp? So many have asked. So few ever find out.” There are so many other things they could be doing, I’m sure.

“Fine,” Nathan puts in, “We had a guy standing on the back of a boat who suffered some ruler-straight injuries.”

And chances of this being a normal situation looking up, possibly.

“Broke both his legs right across here,” Audrey indicates.

Well, there’s a simple explanation to that, “Boom?”

“I don’t know what sound it made,” Audrey says. Really.

“Now I know why you think he’s a boat expert,” Nathan chides.

“Come on, I was kidding.” Nice save.

I’ll let her have it, “It was funny.”

“It wasn’t a sailboat,” Nathan clarifies, “Sport fisher. Deep V hull.”

Doesn’t mean it couldn’t be, “Somebody else’s boom,” I get non-commital looks at that, “Aye, the ocean, she be a mysterious and dangerous place.”

“Like a tarp.” Audrey persists.

“Sure.”

“Come on, just tell us what’s behind it.”

Wow, this is going to be hilarious. I wonder what their assumptions are, especially given it’s at The Gull, where I conduct legit business as a matter of course, “Something I’m trying to protect.”

“Because you’re a model citizen?”

“I have a code. Just one that says I don’t have to show you,” I point out, “In fact, not showing you will probably be the most fun I have today...” I let that hold a couple more minutes, “Alas, I hate to see a beautiful woman suffer,” I pull the tarp back, to show the dastardly party supplies half still stacked up because there’s more to get, “Pam Seligson. She’s the town librarian,” I realize Audrey probably doesn’t recognize the name considering a soon to be octogenarian is not likely to have crossed the police radar, “It’s her 80 th  birthday. Asked me to hide the set up,” and because it’s me, I add, “I smuggled it, all of it, from Iceland.”

“That is really sweet, Duke,” Audrey says.

“So glad we came,” Nathan mutters.

Well, hey, it was fun for a little while, and definitely, probably a Trouble, that I hopefully can avoid. Nathan’s radio crackles, “Nathan, you there, sugar?” Well, that’s gold.

“Copy, Lavarne.”

“You better get up to Tradewinds Real Estate, doll. Sounds like somebody got pretty PO’d at their broker,” and that’s a relief because they’ll be skedaddling.

“Bye, Audrey,” I tell her, “You too, sugar.”

Patented Nathan snort, but they turn and go and I head back to my truck for the rest of the things. Makes me almost wish for the Derry trip to be sooner in case they come back for more, but that’s just stupid and for once the perfectly legal errand that I’m going on is actually perfectly legal.

 

I don’t know why I’m surprised to see Nathan and Audrey coming back in to the bar asking for help. Always help and no compensation.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Use your boat to get close to _The Endorf_ _in._ A police boat is just gonna stick out like a sore thumb.”

Hm. Yes, that’s perfectly reasonable, and then they’ll what sneak on board? It’s bad enough I’ve helped a few times, something like that. No reputation left. Aside from business.

Let’s see, what can I—oh, yeah, after she left Nathan to possibly beat me to death, “Hmm. You remember when I asked you to help me with those parking tickets? You turned me down.”

“This is more important than parking tickets,” Nathan retorts.

“That’s a matter of perspective, Nathan. Those things get expensive.” 

“Duke, seriously,” Audrey says, “I’m just asking for a favor.”

Well, at least she’s not trying to bribe me with the ‘got you out of jail’ nonsense; because that was just due process of me being _innocent_.

“I’m sensing a dangerous trend here,” I point out, maybe the truth will set me free, “Truth?”

“That would be nice,” Nathan says.

“ _The Endorfin_ is a high-end fishing charter. It takes out big-ticket customers who want big-ticket items. I can get those things.”

“You do business with them?” Like this should be surprising.

“Yeah. In fact, I’m getting them a delivery of some very expensive noble grape,” and I'm getting a Wuornos look, “Don’t worry, Nathan. I paid the custom fees.”

“And so protecting your business with the owner is more important than helping us?”

Well, it kinda is, “I mean, does it have to be an either/or?”

Apparently there’s something else they can do after all.

“Good luck,” I tell them as they leave.


	3. Compensation?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of the sketchy situation and Audrey trying to be thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently skipped posting this section previously, so now here it is and again this chapter was originally skipped and should be here as 3, and also a lot of dialogue is in "Sketchy".

Apparently whatever they planned didn’t work out, because I find myself being pestered the next day. Has the delivery come in? They were wrong about the Trouble and what was going on, and the mother fucker I have the delivery set up with is blackmailing people and using, okay, what? Magic drawings for revenge.

I don’t even…

...but it’s one part self-preservation because if Richards’s is dealing with me and things go south I don’t want a magic drawing killing me somehow, and he’s kidnapped the artist’s Dad to make it happen, which is just...rude. Maybe with my not so subtle hints something will actually happen about the damn parking tickets now too. I can’t do all of this out of the kindness of my heart, what will the other crooks think?

So, there I go getting my ass on board the boat, and negotiating fees which I’ll hopefully actually get when all’s said and done, because they show up too quickly for the money to actually change hands, but he does let me down below decks which is his first mistake. I’m still not exactly sure about this magic drawing business but I go crack the safe anyway, and then when the door pops open, revealing cash and picture I hear him shouting: the prisoner.

“Let me out of here, you bastard! You better not have done anything to Vickie!” I’m not picking that lock too there has to be something I can use to just get the flap off. I was right that dude was bound to have a crowbar down here considering all the boxes he has to pop open.

“I haven’t done anything to Vickie,” I retort, “Give me a moment I’ll have you out of there.”

It takes two pulls but the brace holding the lock pops out of the wall and the door is open, and I take the folder the drawing is in, and my pay, and make sure he is behind me as we go back up. Things do not seem to be going as well on deck. Seems very threateny. Well, here goes nothing, magic drawing do your thing. I flick his face and he jerks and then again and he is on the dock, hard.

“Hey—this really works!”

“What took you so long?” Audrey asks, though she is half-laughing.

“I’m sorry, but it takes a second to pick a _safe_.” I point out.

“Well, that’s a shock,” she says.

Maybe my reputation is getting too good, “Besides,” I add, “I had to pry open the door to get that guy out.”

The prisoner takes that cue to run out and come up.

“Daddy!” a girl squeals, happy.

This picture is too much responsibility. I let Nathan know I don’t want it and try to hand it to him, but then I get body slammed by Richards instead and lose my grip. That can’t have helped his attack any given it’s going down, but I realize it’s gone over the side into the drink. There’s a mad scramble to try and get it back, but it sinks, and I can hear Richards choking and coughing up water. Holy shit. That is not a good way to go.

I remember back to the feeling of pressure in my lungs as I gasped for air, and having to cut my hair to get unstuck from _Cape_ when certain repairs went bad. I can hold my breath for quite a while, but not long enough to untangle hair from being stuck to something behind my head. Knife for life it was.

“You know,” I tell them, “I’m just gonna leave the rest of this to you. Have fun.”

“You want to take your wine back?” Audrey asks, “I doubt you got paid for it.”

“No,” I tell her, “He never did give me the money. And well no sense in it going to waste in evidence lock up or something. I will indeed take it back.”

Not so bad today, after all.

 

Audrey actually stops by The Gull later on. There’s a moment when I wonder if she’s going to ask me about missing money, but apparently they haven’t noticed. Instead she sits at the bar and orders a Dirty Martini. Maybe she feels guilty about all the ‘not relaxing’ that’s happened before and where that’s gotten the both of us. Maybe she feels guilty about Richards even though he really brought that on himself slamming into me. Still sucks.

“Barkeep, another!” she remarks, as I finish serving some frou-frou umbrella drinks to a tourist couple.

It doesn’t take me too long, “Dirty Martini, number two,” I furnish it with a flourish, “So, are these happy Martinis or sad Martinis?”

“It’s because I want to thank you, but that seems almost impossible,” she explains, so not the time to bring up the parking tickets, “So, I figure with a big bill at least I can give you a good tip.” Also not the time to tell her that the owner generally doesn’t take tips, especially if she’s giving it on purpose.

“All right,” I tell her, because I’m also waiting for the catch.

“No, seriously. Thank you, Duke, for coming through when I called.”

“Sure,” can probably get away with it now, “Now, about those parking tickets—why is it so hard for you to thank me?” Seriously.

“I don’t know,” she says, “Maybe ‘cause every time we start to be nice to each other something blows it up.”

Hm, “Maybe you just ask way too much of me. I mean, the poking around, the judging,” the asking things that are ridiculous, “The secret to happiness with men? Lower your expectations.”

“Everybody knows that,” she says.

“Why can’t you do it?”

She waggles her glass at me, “I’m drinking this swill, aren’t I?”

“No fair going after the booze,” I retort, “That can get you cut off.”

“Big bill. Big tip,” she returns.

I allow her a cock-eyed smile because she thinks she’s being devious, but I am the one controlling the pour, “I’m going to hold you to it.”

Two more glasses and despite me tight fisting the actual booze on them a bit she’s pretty mellow, “I hear a rumor that you have a birthday coming up,” I tell her.

She pulls a face, “I suppose, but I’ve never really been much for celebrations, birthdays, Christmas. I suppose it’s the way I grew up. You better not plan anything,” she stabs a finger at me accusingly.

“ _I_ am planning _nothing_.” I assure her.

“Good.”

“Besides, I hate trying to get gifts for people.”

“You have all the connections to get anything and everything though, surely.”

“Okay,” I admit, “It’s not like I couldn’t get stuff. It’s just the whole everyone watching everything and judging. If I’m going to get someone something I’d rather get it just because not because it’s a Thing and You Have To. If you like someone celebrate them whenever.”

“Fine,” she mutters, “It’s not like I’d want anything, anyway,” now there is a bold-faced lie.

“Hm-mm,” I answer, showing her I don’t believe her.

“Okay, maybe I just want people to be straight with me. I keep feeling like there’s more stuff that people know about my moth—probable mother, and yet it’s like walking a maze blindfolded to find any of it,” she reaches into a pocket and pulls out a photograph, “Seriously this is all I have right now. This picture at a crime scene of all places.”

Ah, _The Colorado Kid_ , and wait...that’s _me_. I hope I kept that look of shock inside. Her mother holding my hand, though I could seriously see me being too eager to look at the weird body laying there and having to be held back. I wonder who took the photo given there’s a camera man taking a photo also in the shot, and is that? That’s Vanessa. Carolina would throw money at her every once in a while to keep an eye on me when she went off on one of her mini trips to find someone to give her stuff to snort.

Why did I not remember something as significant as a dead body? Or Vanessa taking us to the beach...that wasn’t very her. She used to keep bundled up like anything no matter what the weather was like.

“You’re being very quiet,” Audrey tells me.

“Just wondering if we could track down any of the people in the photo, trying to place them, and all,” I take a deep breath, “but look if you’re going to get all mopey I am going to have to cut you off and send you back to Chez Motel.”

“I...” she sighs, “You may have a point though. What’s the damage?” She settles up with an extra $50 and heads off. It’s decent, I suppose.

 

 


	4. M&M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch & Magda are entirely my own creations, not in the series at all.   
> It changes Duke's back story only slightly because: dead father, foster care, back with mother who only wanted him for food stamps and welfare. It just came about while talking with friends and I thought it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this was chapter 3, but I had more between that and this, which I skipped posting because I'm a dork, so if you had read this before please go back and read actual chapter 3. Thanks.

The drive out to Derry is fairly easy given there’s not much in the way of rush hour on a holiday. I see them both outside painting when I get closer to the house. They’re white washing the wooden trim and the wood frame of the little porch that is before the front door.

They hear me pull up, of course, and Magda comes close to the truck as I’m turning off the engine. Mitch finishing up with his brush before coming up. I get a hug before I’m even fully out.

“Good to see you,” she says, “It’s been a while.”

“You too,” I answer, “So, you’re painting the house on a day you’re supposed to relax?”

“We started it Saturday, but then there was rain,” Mitch explains, “May as well finish while we’re both off work.”

Magda gives him a playful shove, “and then rewards later when it’s done.”

I don’t know that I want to know.

“Fireworks and barbecue,” Mitch fills in, “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

I have to smile at him, “It pretty much lives there so that’s gonna be difficult.”

Magda reaches towards my head, then, “You cut your hair,” she toys with one end of some strands behind my ear.

I pull a face, “Yeah. I know. Not by choice,” she removes her hand from my hair looking curious, “I was repairing the _Cape_ and got caught underneath,” I mime cutting my hair with my hand to represent the knife.

“Well, if it comes to your hair or your life you made the right choice,” she says, “and it’s not as if it won’t grow back.”

“It’s working on it.”

She laughs, “I was going to say unless you want to keep looking halfway respectable.”

I laugh in return, and Mitch just shakes his head.

“Pick up a brush and help us finish the porch and then we’ll go inside and sort out,” he says, waving back in the direction of the house with his brush that’s thankfully dry. Magda dodges in the appropriate direction anyway, paranoid.

“You can tell us what you’ve been up to in the past few years,” he continues.

“Hm.”

“Some version of it, anyway.” Magda amends with a wry smile as we walk the few feet back to the door.

“Hey, I’m a legitimate business man now,” I say with mock-offense given they only know of some of my scrapes anyway, “I own a bar.”

“A bar?” Magda asks, handing me her paint brush and picking up a slightly smaller one for herself.

“Where?”

“It’s on the coast, near the harbor. It’s...in Haven,” I admit.

“Really?” They’re, of course, surprised. The last time I saw them was in between some Evi debacles and I was on my way up to Canada, coming from the Caribbean, returning to Haven was the last thing on my mind. Though given what they know of my childhood from the time I was with them they understood that.

“Yeah,” I answer, “I know. I wouldn’t have thought about it either.”

Magda pats me on the arm, “Things change. As long as you’re happy,” after a moment she says, “You’re not?”

“Things have happened that are rough,” I admit, “but it’s mostly good.”

“That’s something...” she says.

She and Mitch exchange a couple of glances that are slightly suspicious, in between brush strokes.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

Magda lets air out through her teeth the way she used to if she caught me doing something not good, like the time I decided to doodle all over the wall near the kitchen, and very rude pictures at that.

“Just...” Mitch starts but then stops.

“Haven has a history of...events that...”

So, they know about the Troubles? “You mean the Troubles?” I ask them.

“Yes.” Mitch says, sounding very reluctant to admit it.

I nod, “Yeah, they’re back.”

Magda looks crestfallen and Mitch looks grim, “That’s the rough?”

I nod, “A guy drowned on dry land a couple of days ago. I was on the docks at the time...”

There’s that Magda hiss again, and they change the subject after that to simpler things like how I got the bar. I cut the Trouble part out of that rehashing—just the fact that Geoff tragically died and Bill sold me The Gull using a trick based on a way that I worked my deals with them.

“We’ll have to see it some time,” Magda says, “If you’re not going to be embarrassed having us there.”

“No, not at all.”

“Well, we’ll have to come with some embarrassing stories to tell your employees.” Mitch teases, “or is there a lady in the picture we could show pictures to, even?”

I shake my head, “No—no relationships.”

“Maybe by the time we visit?”

I snort-laugh at that, “Please.”

 

It’s not too long to finish the porch, and then it’s inside for coffee and cake. I should have brought them a pie or something, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I apologize for the oversight and am told to hush with that nonsense. They’ve changed around the family room since I was last here, couches in pale green rather than brown with diamond patterns, and in a different situation given the TV is now a flat screen, not a big box monstrosity full of tubes.

“So, you think you left a necklace here?” Magda says, after compliments about coffee and cake.

“I know that I hid it here,” I explain, “before I left—back with Mom and her douche. I didn’t want her to get her hands on it. I’m pretty sure it was given to me by that Lucy woman when she dropped me off with you guys.”

“Ah, I remember that—she was very concerned about you, and wanted to make sure you didn’t stay in the group home,” Mitch says, “she felt really bad about you winding up there.”

Hm, “Well, there’s a woman that’s shown up in Haven and she looks a lot like her—like maybe she’s her daughter, but she went through the system as well, something must have happened and, anyway, I thought she would want the necklace—that she should have it.”

Magda nods, “That makes sense. Though we’ve never come across a necklace anywhere...and I don’t think any of the other kids we looked after did.” she finishes.

“I guess I hid it better than I was afraid I did.”

“Well, if we’d found it we’d have gone through all the foster kids until we found out whose it was,” she says, “Though we’ve had more than a few who’d be too young to be hiding things.”

“None right now though?” even though if there were ones who were school age they’d be running through the house right now given it’s a holiday and I imagine a baby would have woken up by this point if they’d been napping.

“No, we had to give up the last little girl a few months ago and decided we’d finish the work on the house before we agreed to any more.”

“Ah,” I say, “I’d wondered if you’d retired from that.”

“We’re not _that_ old,” Mitch says.

“If you say so.”

“Watch it youngling,” Mitch continues, “I can find a way to take you down.”

“I think that’s my cue, if you don’t mind, to go see if I can find the necklace.”

Magda nods, “If you need help let us know. We’ll be here drinking our coffee and resting our old bones.”

“Uh-huh,” I pull myself up out of the very soft couch, and head to the laundry room. There was a loose baseboard in there behind the washing machine. I had kicked it in frustration while helping Mitch fix the washer, mostly holding screws. Fortunately I was able to put it back before he noticed, and he never seemed to given I never found him repairing it. We’ll see if it’s still there. It takes a little bit of wangling but I get the baseboard off, and I can see the edge of the piece of cloth I’d wrapped the necklace in to protect it. Carefully I pull the cloth and thankfully it doesn’t come away without the jewelry still inside it. I can feel the slightly heavier weight pulling against the fabric; but it all comes out and I put the baseboard back.

It’s a very round silver oval with filigree design and a small stone in the center. On the back the initials L.R. are engraved. For a moment I can smell the sea air and hear gulls, and feel a hand tight in mine pulling me back from something. A woman’s voice saying, “No. Stay with me. Stay here, please. It’s safer,” and then it’s gone.

I know I was there on the beach. The photo that Audrey now owns has me on it. The woman known as Lucy holding my hand tightly. I had to have been there but that’s the first I’ve remembered of the day ever which creeps me out more than a little bit.

 


	5. Happy Drinks and Cold Boat Rides.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting Audrey to the island proves slightly awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some dialogue in it lifted directly from episode 9 "As You Were". In some cases slightly modified to fit earlier chapters of the story.

I don’t see Nathan and Audrey except in passing for a few days, which is fine with me, whatever Trouble they have going on, they apparently don’t need my help with. I know there’s a Trouble because The Gull is always full of rumor mongers, and there’s talk of someone from the medical center being stabbed, several times or once, depending on who you listen to, and then something about a dark man, or a shadow man. So, Trouble...or racism. But Trouble, in actuality.

I hear a little more about it because Audrey stops by for a drink. Nathan doesn’t stay.

“More happy Martinis?” I ask her, taking over for Manny so that I can serve her.

“I thought I’d try something different today,” she says, “but I don’t know what.”

“Mixed drink?” I ask her, watching her reactions as I do, “Sweet? Tart?”

“I’m not sure,” she says.

“Alright, then. I’ll surprise you.”

Vodka, pineapple juice and as much cranberry to equal the amounts of those two together into a highball glass of ice, and mix it around to blend the juices and alcohol. No shaker for this one. Then a pineapple wedge to the edge of the glass and sliding it across the counter to her.

“And this is?” she asks.

“Bay Breeze,” I explain, “A little sweet, a little tart, and mixed.”

She sips it cautiously and then takes a bigger mouthful, “This is good,” she says, sounding surprised.

“You sound surprised.”

“I never thought about a fruity mixed drink.”

“You seemed like you did,” I tell her.

“It is good,” she says.

“You said that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Not going to go on about drinking swill today.”

She doesn’t say anything to that but pulls a face, “I _was_ joking,” she says eventually, after taking several more drinks from her glass.

“It’s fine,” I tell her, “Just remember insulting the bartender—even playfully can have consequences.”

“Such as?”

“Getting cut off.”

She pouts, “After I gave you such a good tip last time?”

“I thought _that_ was to say thank you?”

“You have a point.”

“I also have a proposition,” I tell her.

“You recall the last time there was something like a proposition and how that ended?” she asks, skeptically.

“ _That_ was a bet, and we’re not talking about _that_.” I tell her, a bit more bruskly than I probably should.

She looks at me over the top of the glass stirring the liquid around with a straw she picked up, “That’s probably a good idea,” she says, quietly.

Hm. How to put this so she’ll be intrigued but not want to go right away. We have another day—maybe I should just wait. There’s no guarantee that I’ll see her tomorrow and calling...what if she doesn’t answer, again?

“I saw something weird earlier,” I tell her.

“Weird?” she asks.

“Yeah, out across the bay,” I wave a hand in the direction of Carpenter’s Knot. Not that she necessarily knows about that, “I was running an errand.”

“Of course you were,” she says with a slightly cock-eyed smile, “What was it?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” I tell her, “That’s why it was weird. I was hoping you could help me check it out.”

“A weird thing?” she says, stirring her drink around with the straw once more. Her smile quirks again as she says, “That sounds...I’m not sure.”

“I know,” I tell her, “but I don’t know exactly how to describe it. It might be Trouble-y. It might just be something tame and boring. That’s why I’m asking you and not bringing it up when Nathan’s around. Don’t need him teasing me about being paranoid.”

“Alright,” she says, “I’ll go there with you. Probably better wait til the weekend though otherwise I’ll have to get Nathan involved, and it doesn’t need to devolve into you two bickering either.”

I nod, “Thank you. I’m sure I can arrange transportation by then.”

“Not the _Cape_?”

“Channels too low for a big girl like her; but no worries there’s a skiff pilot who owes me a favor.”

“Of course there is,” she says.

“Hey,” I tell her, “Nothing wrong with having friends in different places. Comes in very useful.”

“Like when you want to have a cop friend help you with a possible Trouble?”

“Exactly,” I treat her to a beaming smile, “Meet me at the docks around...” hrm, “I’ll text you once I find out from my ‘friend’.”

 

@@@@

 

Of course the guy can only be at the docks at seven in the morning; but well, he has his regular job too. Closing runs late the night before so I just don’t bother sleeping and wait at the docks for Audrey in case she’s early, which she is by about fifteen minutes.

George is already setting up the boat, so we get underway. Audrey is bundled up in a coat, and I’m just in my regular clothes. I changed and showered before I went down in the hopes that it would refresh me and help me not fall asleep, but the lulling motion of the boat whose stern wall I’m leaning against isn’t helping with that now.

Audrey is antsy about getting there, but no matter how much she paces the deck it’s not going to make us get there any faster.

“Audrey,” I tell her as she comes back across the deck closer to me, “It’s gonna take us a little while to get where we’re going. Just relax.”

“Where exactly are we going?” she says, “I know it’s something to do with the Troubles, but ‘across the bay’...”

“Buddha says ‘all good things come to those who wait’.” I tell her.

She snorts, “Yeah, and does Buddha also say, “drink, smuggle and always look out for number one.”?”

I give her a sideways smile, “I’m a reformed Buddhist.”

She shakes her head at me, “Just tell me exactly where we’re going.”

I put my arm around her shoulders and turn her around, “It’s called Carpenter’s Knot,” I point, “It’s been in the Carpenter family since...forever. The last of the Carpenters is kind of a hermit. He closed down the hotel and pulled up the red carpet when I was a kid.”

“Hmm,” she says, given that doesn’t explain anything else, I imagine.

“Now, I hear that that grounds and resort are very special.” Shit, that was the wrong…

“You hear?” she turns to me, “You said you saw something that you had to show me.”

I pull back, “Oh. Well. I may have embellished that part, but you can practically smell the history, can’t you?”

She just gives me a look.

“It’s a weird place though,” I tell her, “I mean, the guy just pulled up everything and shut the hotel down. There has to be _some_ reason.”

“Okay. Okay,” she says, “but if this is a waste of time...”

I put up my hands, “I promise you. It’ll be worth it.”

I lean back against the boat wall again, and close my eyes. I must actually nod off for a little bit because the boat turning towards the dock at the Knot wakes me up and it shouldn’t have been that soon compared to me talking to Audrey but we’re here now. I help Audrey off the boat and George waves and turns back around.

I lead Audrey up to the house. She’s looking around waiting for something, and I take her towards the house and then inside. Most of the doors in the house are open but there’s one shut which must be where everyone’s hiding. Audrey looks inside the open doors.

“I can smell something now,” she tells me, as we go towards the closed door, “this place, and it gives me the creeps. Now tell me what the real--” she’s cut off when I push open the door to the closed room and she gets ambushed by the rest of the group shouting ‘Happy Birthday!’ and ‘Surprise!’ at her.

“Got ya,” I tell her, walking into the main room. I can see the Teagues, Nathan and the Chief, Eleanor and...Julia. Man she looks—most everyone is going on about how amazing the look of shock on her face was, but when I turn back to Audrey, away from taking in Julia, she mostly looks confused and a little distressed right now.

“Are you crying?” I ask her.

“No,” she answers, defensively.

“Crying will not be tolerated today.”

“Shut up!” she snaps, but it’s not entirely angry, “I am so armed,” she shakes her head, “Nobody’s ever thrown me a birthday party before. So it’s—it’s pretty awesome.”

“After all you’ve done for Haven, it’s the least we could do,” I’m not sure where that comes from, one of the Teagues maybe.

“I never even expected it. I didn’t even know you guys were plan—I didn’t even expect it from the girl I don’t even know,” she waves at Julia who steps forward to introduce herself. I wonder if she—keep away from those thoughts. Stay good, right, or despite the fact we’re all adults I can easily see Eleanor blocking Julia and I from even breathing the same air.

Julia’s introducing herself and Eleanor is preening, “She was in Ethiopia with the peace corps.”

“Well, Darfur, actually,” Julia corrects, “with Doctors Without Borders.”

Trust Eleanor to have everything wrong.

“Well, thank you. Thank you for coming,” Audrey tells her.

“Well, I brought Margarita mix.”

“Will you marry me, please?”

It may be the almost drunk-tired state but I wind up going over to Julia and putting an arm around her shoulders, “Julia here had the biggest crush on me when she was just a wee lass.”

“Please. I Put up with your hipster chin fuzz so you’d tell me cool traveling stories,” is the retort. Maybe I’m not on her radar any more after, “She lurrrrved me,” I tell Audrey. It’s worth it for the look on Eleanor’s face though even if I was wrong about the crush and Julia doesn’t feel anything any more. She’s been all over the world it sounds like, maybe she found someone else, like I had that stint with Evi, though that is well and done.

The bell hop arrives with gifts and bags though so there’s distraction, thankfully. Audrey looking excitedly at gifts and talking to Nathan. She’s going to have so many questions about the locket though, not putting that on the rack.

Oh, man, is Eleanor flirting with Old Man Carpenter whose just showed up and is more distracted with Audrey.

“Lucy Ripley. You look exactly like her,” he tells Audrey.

“Lucy Ripley? Did you know her?”

“She’s an old friend,” he says, as the power flickers, “Oh, damn. The power is temperamental with the weather,” he heads towards the door, “Excuse me while I check on the generator.”

“Okay, everybody,” Eleanor is already on the control, “Let’s take the presents to the table.”

“Do you mind if we get settled in first, Mom?” Julia bites back, “Pick out rooms, that kind of thing, before you start, you know, cracking the whip,” so they’re as friendly as ever it sounds like.

“I’m not cracking the whip. I’m trying to get everybody organized.”

“I’m just saying maybe ask first,” Julia looks around, “Anybody have a preference?” Maybe we can get close to one another and talk things out. People are saying they don’t really and I agree because admitting that I do want to have a room close by hers in public would be a bad idea.

“Do whatever you want,” Eleanor mutters.

It’s a good opportunity, though, to give Audrey her Mom’s necklace while everyone is distracted room picking. Vince and Dave going on about bunk beds, and Nathan and Garland are clearly not on good terms still.

“Well, that was interesting,” I remark to Audrey by way of starting conversation.

“Yeah, a big bucket full of awkward,” she replies.

“Speaking of which,” because so much yes, “I don’t really do public displays of gift giving, but I do have a gift for you.”

“Actually, I was going to go look for Mr. Carpenter. You heard he said he knows Lucy so I want to ask him some questions.”

Is that really so urgent? “We just got here,” I point out, “You’ll have all weekend to catch up with the old guy that you just met.”

The look on her face though, “I’m sorry. Did you say that you got me a gift? What is it? Is it a pony?”

Seriously? I’ll just do it later, “Forget it.” I tell her, and go upstairs, maybe there’s still time to track down Julia and talk to her.


	6. Suspicious Pirate is Suspicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is the chameleon? Will we ever know? (Well...if you've seen the show, yes).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, more dialogue lifted from episode 9 "As You Were".

No sign of anyone upstairs, and it’s not like I really brought anything with me. All the better to keep Audrey unawares. I can just find a room later, screw this, besides it looks like there’s a couple of empty ones and working out whose is whose right now feels like a waste of time.

I find my way carefully back downstairs given landmark tracking and into the room where everyone’s gathering, seeing the Chief on my way and he follows me. Eleanor asks if anyone has seen Audrey, and being that I’m on my ‘best behavior’ I raise my hand to attract her attention, “Just long enough to know she was looking for Mr. Carpenter.”

Dave says that he left some present in her room because outfit or something. Who knows with him but apparently she’s going to look fantastic. Eleanor is taking charge again finding a way to send Julia out of the room: matches are apparently a necessity right this minute. It seems like there’s no way we’ll ever be able to talk this weekend I’m guessing. Even the possibility of conversation seems to be some sort of threat to Eleanor, and she might not even have anything to worry about. My history in the in between could easily disgust her daughter now even if she did seem to be latched on to me back when she was a teenager.

Audrey bursts back into the room but Julia’s not back yet. The dress Dave left her is pretty nice. I watch Julia leave then and move closer to the door maybe I can grab her when she comes back in, just not literally.

“You like the decorations?” Eleanor is preening at Audrey again.

Though Audrey’s struggling with identifying things, apparently the seahorses look like dragons to her so I slip her the information that it’s an underwater theme. But then a scream cuts through everything and I bolt in Julia’s direction because _danger_ and _Julia._ She needs help. 

 

@@@

 

There is…

...is that a skin suit? 

Chief is ushering everyone back with venom. This is clearly something that he is perturbed by. He wants us all out of the way quite desperately. 

“Looks like moult,” Eleanor says. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Chief says, “Vaughn Carpenter was a chameleon.” 

A what? He makes us leave the room again, which is a relief that...skin pile is just...disconcerting,  and if it’s shed the skin is it walking around like a person with just muscle showing, that’s too close to...nope. Not going there. 

Chief’s smoking I’m sure Nathan is pissed about that, and I missed part of what he was talking about but, “Somebody right here in this room is a chameleon. Which means one of us is a killer.” Great. That’s a...fuck.  Who could it be? I catch something about Chief being a rookie. Focus, “I was just back from ‘Nam, where must have thought I’d pretty much seen and done everything until I was forced to shoot my own partner right in the head to stop him from killing me.” 

T hat must have sucked. 

“You killed your partner?” Audrey speaks up. 

“Chameleon killed my partner,” Chief corrects, “He was taking his shape. He was taking his personality—taking everything. I killed the chameleon but not before it had copied and killed six people. Now, 27 years on the job, and the only thing I’ve ever hoped for: that I’d never have to see one of them again.” 

Great. This thing terrifies the Chief—who the Hell is it?  And fuck there’s no signal I can’t call George back here to get us.  I’m trying to think of who I have and haven’t seen and when.  Nathan was out  for a while on some ground walking thing. Audrey  was getting dressed  but she’s the Trouble Helper it would be counter productive to take her . Julia—she screamed and drew attention, surely it can’t be her.  Eleanor busy bodying around and about. I pity something trying to take her but still…

I tune back in in the middle of Chief saying, “It wants to renew itself. I think everyone in this room’s pretty much well aware that The Troubles are now back. Well, this thing’s lived as Vaughn Carpenter all these years. Well, when The Troubles were gone. Now all of a sudden it wants to get active again,” and right when we were brought here too how convenient, “It’s killed one of us already and I guarantee it’s not gonna stop at one.” 

“Hang on a second,” I butt in, “I’m trying to be Zen about all this but just so I’m clear you’re saying that you haven’t seen one of these chameleon deals since the Reagan Administration and now of all the times and all the places we just happen to get stuck in a storm inside it’s damn lair?” waaay too convenient, “I’m just curious how that happens.” Really curious. 

“We didn’t happen to get stuck. We were invited,” Dave says, “He called me: Vaughn. Said ‘it’s been too long.’ said he’d ‘heard all about The Troubles in town, about the new FBI Agent’ and he wondered if we—we’d like to come over for a visit and then Eleanor called—you did,” he adds because Eleanor’s looking sort of angry towards him. She doesn’t want to be blamed, “you called and you said you were looking for a place to throw Audrey a party. I thought it was just fate!” 

“You’re trying to blame me? I was looking for—well, what was I supposed to do?” 

I  should have just volunteered my place, insisted. I’d have been able to sleep in too.  Icing on the chameleon-free cake. 

I catch someone saying something about calling the mainland. 

“Good luck with that,” I let them know, “I haven’t gotten signal since we got off the boat.” 

The landline was apparently checked too, people blaming the storm when it was more likely the chameleon—keep us trapped. 

“But Vaugn was gonna call a boat for us when we were—well, I guess that isn’t going to happen,” Eleanor realizes. No shit. He probably nixed the phone before we even got here. 

T here’s a boat house, great. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” Chief is kaiboshing that idea, fuck that, “No one’s taking any boat back to any mainland. Not until we’re absolutely sure this chameleon is dead.” 

“So, what, are you gonna stop me, Old Man River?” self-preservation makes me irate in Chief’s direction, but also looking for confirmation that it’s him—how does the chameleon take people over and mimic them, it can’t know everything they now, but I really don’t want to bring up the Monserrat stuff in front of everyone, “Maybe you just want to keep me here so you can eat me and take over my body?” 

“I’m not taking any chances letting his killer loose on the mainland,” Chief retorts, “Now if you want to throw down there, yoga mat, you just feel free. I’ve coughed up tougher than you.” Well, certainly sounds like the Chief. I’m about to fire back again hoping I can look for other confirmation but Audrey says: 

“Hey, if I may interrupt the Chunk Norris revival with some logic...why don’t we just go down to the boat house and then decide what to do. Nathan?” Of course she invites him. They’re basically joined at the hip since she’s been here. Seems likely she’s her. Should have brought a gun with me. 

“Chief? Are you armed?” Julia pipes up, “Cause she is. She’s all ‘be cool’ and what not. She’s got a gun. How do we know she’s not the thingamabob?” I give Audrey a once over. Julia’s right, there’s a holster on her thigh, and she has to be packing her normal gun too. 

“I am _not_ the _thingamabob_ ,” Audrey protests, “Ask me anything, all right? What—the first boy that I kissed was when I was 18. My favorite singer is Ray Charles.” Have I ever heard any of that before though? 

“\--and my middle name is Prudence, self-inflicted on my confirmation. So we good now?” 

“Well, that may all be true,” Nathan says, “but...we don’t know you well enough to know.” Guess they’re not that close after all. Did I hear Justin Timberlake before thought? 

Audrey sighs and produces her guns, “One. Two. That’s one more than you knew that I had,” sure it is, “and one I could have kept if I was a bad guy.” 

Eleanor starts divvying up the guns. I’m not surprised that I don’t get part of one  but there’s still Nathan and the Chief. 

“I’d certainly feel better if the other two badges weren’t packing.” I point out. Deny it. 

C hief claims he has nothing. There isn’t anything on his side, definitely. 

“Service weapon is up in my bag,” Nathan says, “Feel free to take it.” 

“What about you, Chief?” Julia persists. 

“A gun,” he claims innocent, “I was coming to a party. Look, there’s nothing.” He shows his ankle for additional verification but I feel suspicious. At least I’ve got an open invitation to Nathan’s gun. 

“Alright then. Anybody else?” Audrey asks, “Going once. Going twice. Okay, boat house. A.S.A.P.” 

A nd they leave. 

 

Fuck this. I have no idea who is who, and how to test them? But we need to get off this place. The old man has to have had some sort of back up for contact to the main land that doesn’t rely on phone cables. I leave the rest of them arguing and snipping and  testing each other and head out into the house. If something attacks me I’m damn sure I can defend myself against it.  I can probably find a decent weapon on the way around too. 

M ost of the house is useless, but eventually I find the way into the attic and there’s a toolbox and a radio—which is broken, but the tools and the fact that I know one or two things about this type of set-up mean that it could be very useful.  I dump the tools I’ll need into a bag and then heft the radio and come back downstairs  and set everything down on the nearest table.  The safest thing to do is to keep everyone away from me, “No one touches this but me,” I tell them, “I know I’m not the chameleon, so right now, I’m the only one I trust,”  that should do it, and if someone comes threatening close I can always hit them with a wrench.  Thankfully no one protests. 

 

I’ m not sure how long it is before the door opens, given I’m focused on the radio, but the door opens and the trio of potential saviors walk in,  but apparently they’ve got nothing. 

“I had better luck on my trip to the attic,” I point out. 

“You went to the attic—by yourself?” Nathan is unhappy with me, “I thought we said to stay together.” 

“Nathan,” I can be chiding too, “I found a radio. Maybe I can fix it, and no—I don’t need any help.” 

T he others decide they’re going to try and find the victim to answer the question of who the chameleon is, after all. Yeah, splitting up into groups is always a bright horror movie decision, and I’m  _not_ joining, not giving the chameleon the chance to run off with the radio and throw it in the water or something. 

“Party of one. Thanks,” I say when they ask me which group I want to go off with, “I have work to do and I can’t exactly do it if I’m carrying the radio around with me.” So not leaving it alone to disappear or being singled off with someone who might the chameleon, and thankfully they all go off in various directions. 

A fter a while I’m not getting too far with the radio because my brain is going in a million directions trying to work out who did what, and who could be the chameleon, and the lack of boat just doesn’t make sense.  I’m not going to solve this by sitting here, and maybe taking a break from the radio to clear my head enough to fix it,  and Nathan did say I was—well, anyone was welcome to his gun. 

W hich is  _not_ there. 

Mother…

Okay, now I’m definitely checking the boat house. 

It’s pouring rain outside, but I don’t care. Nathan lied.  What else did he lie about?  Nothing but lanterns and cockroaches in the boat house, he said.  Well, at least lanterns will mean light.  Light to show that there’s a  boat alright, or there was...it’s deflat ed pretty well because there’s a bullet hole right through it.  I need a weapon. 


	7. Axe, No Axe and a Wench with a Cheese Knife.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find the chameleon, or do they? And then the darkness finds them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dialogue from episode 9, and also from the wench's telling of this tale, which is on 'her' DW.

 

Searching between the boat house and the shed out here finds me an axe. It’s not ideal but at least I can more securely defend myself.  Nothing attacks as I make my way back to the large house, but then everyone should still be in there, searching—I wonder what they’ve found. I know it’s not me.  Whose body? 

N o body it turns out. 

Just everyone in the room when I come in and Nathan directly in front of me, acting all innocent.  He takes a step towards me which is probably because I’m armed with lantern and axe, which I point at him because no, “You stay the hell away from me!” 

“What is wrong with you, you _freak_?” Nathan retorts. 

Sure does sound like him but evidence, “I went down to the boat house and guess what I found: a boat. A perfectly good boat until you shot it!”

“I didn’t shoot the boat,” he answers.

“Where’s your gun, Nathan?” I demand, “’cause I looked in your duffel bag. It’s not there.” 

“Put the axe down,” he tries, but no way. I don’t want to find his dead body but it’s just...

“You’re the chameleon. Where’s your gun, Nathan?”

“I left it in my bag.” Except it’s not there. So, bullshit. I don’t get to say anything though because Audrey butts in over the top of him protesting again, and Eleanor going on about the damn boat, and the Teagues I don’t even know. 

“Inside voices, please,” what is she a school teacher now? “Alright, listen. We need to figure out who the chameleon is--”

No, shit, “Were you not listening? I just--” but she cuts me off. It’s not just the bullshit that’s gone on between Nathan and I, this is real things that she could just be ignoring because he works with her.

“No! Who the chameleon is and what we’re going to do with him, or...her. Alright? I have an idea,” she walks over to the pile of gifts, “We can’t really know what the chameleon knew about the person that it took. But we have to start somewhere.” What’s she planning? “So, each of you brought a present to The Knot. I’m assuming you didn’t take the time to tell Mr. Carpenter what that was, so, if you can say what’s in your box then we’ll chalk one in your favor, and if not we have a problem,” she finishes looking at each of us in turn. 

T his is such bullshit, and I don’t want to give her the necklace in front of everyone because too many questions about history with Lucy and the day I don’t remember, and besides the copy will give themselves away before it gets to me. 

“I’m going last,” I tell the room.

“Huh? Why does _he_ get to go _last?_ ” Nathan complains. 

“Because _he_ ,” I remind him, “has the _axe_.” 

“What about cue ball over here?” Chief points at Dave. 

“Well, I—I brought her the dress,” Dave says.

“And the killer shoes.” Julia mutters.

“And the purse,” Dave finishes.

“Well, exactly,” Chief says, given everyone knew that, I’m sure.

“We’re gonna start with Dr. Carr,” Audrey presses on, holding up a small box. What could that be? Earrings? 

E leanor’s preening again, “Earrings. Emperor penguins,” she explains. 

Audrey opens the box and looks in, holding up the ugliest earrings ever, “Alright. Those are beautiful, thank you,” clearly she agrees that they’re ugly but Eleanor doesn’t seem to notice, “Okay,” she reaches for something else, “Vince?”

He’s eager to tell his truths, looks like a book of some sort, but, I guess, the chameleon wouldn’t be able to tell  _what_ book. 

“It’s a book,” Vince says, “ _Misery Unchained_. It’s a first edition signed by the author just before that lady chopped off his foot.” 

Bingo.

“Okay, Nathan,” she says.

And here we go. That box doesn’t really give much away, anything could be in there, folded clothes, necklace, another book. It’s very non-descript wrapping. Probably some store that just puts everything in the same sort of boxes. Good luck guessing that chameleon.

“It’s a sweater,” he says, sounding oh so sure, “Blue. Cashmere.”

Audrey opens the box and looks vaguely shocked and unhappy, and lifts out something which is definitely not a sweater, “It’s a scarf,” she says.

I knew it, “It _is_ him. I knew it!” I need to at least knock him down with the back of the axe head. Someone else can do the dirty work. I don’t think I can stomach it even if he has murdered Nathan and copied him somehow. 

In trying to get a good bead on Nathan I hear someone saying “calm down” but no, this is not the time. It’s the Chief who gets the blow in though with...a pistol. I should have guessed that he had a gun. He did only show us the one ankle. Damn it all. Where was that alcohol I saw earlier? I find the cabinet and pull out a bottle. I don’t care if it’s not actually Nathan. We still have to…

“Tie him up,” Chief says.

“You have a gun,” I tell him. I know it’s obvious, but I feel the need to point it out. The booze is wine but it’s fairly strong.

“Yep,” Chief says, not caring at all. I’d probably feel the same way if I’d had one with me.

“You lied.”

“Maybe I did.”

“Chief,” Audrey says, chastising him, “hand it over. We all play by the same rules.”

“Says who?”

“Says the whole room that’s about to go Lord of the Flies on your ass.”

He points at me before disarming. The gun is on top of _Misery Unchained_ on the table shortly after that. 

“Duke,” Audrey is on at me now, “Even the playing field.”

Fuck. Fine. I pull the axe head off using my foot for leverage, and dump the handle on the floor, “Happy?” I demand.

Now it’s the question of what to do with Nathan, or not-Nathan. I wonder if we can stick something in him and see if he can feel it, in case it’s not actually him. He’s very sure he’s not but that’s just what the chameleon would say.

“I told Jess to pick up the sweater we saw in McGuinnesses last week,” he says, “She must have seen the scarf and changed her mind. She didn’t tell me before she left.”

No wonder he’s been moping around like someone killed his dog.

Before I can suggest the pin test—though would that even work to show anything, it comes out that the Chief is the one who actually shot the boat.

“Before y’all yell at me, okay?” he presses, “That proves I’m not the chameleon. The chameleon would want to go to the mainland.”

Fair point. Though I sure as shit want to get out of here and I know I’m _not_ the chameleon. Please say it’s not Julia. She just came back. She can’t be dead.

“Any chance I could get untied before everyone goes crazy again?” Nathan asks.

That’s a fight, because we still don’t have absolute proof. He _could_ be making the story about Jess up, but it fits his behavior.

“If we start turning on each other now, we’re just as likely to kill an innocent person as we are the chameleon,” Audrey presses, “So, I don’t know any of you very well, but I would like to and I would like to think we’re better than that.” She does recall the way Nathan and I interact with each other on a regular basis, right? Or _does_ she?

“I probably should have given you a chance to say something before I hit you,” I hear the Chief tell Nathan. Their touchy-feely moment is interrupted by the lights going out.

Gun.

Instead of the gun or the book my hand winds up touching another hand. Small but strong.

“If you’re the chameleon, Boss, does that mean I get your boat?” The owner of the hand is Julia, trying to quietly get proof I’m me, or prove herself to be true, one or—both, probably.

I tighten my hand over hers, “Not a chance, wench. I’ll take you next and then it will be my boat again.”

I let her go and start to stand. Julia flanking me. She must have some sort of weapon in her hand, at least, given the way she’s holding herself as I try to make out who else is in the room. There were a lot of running footsteps and shouting just before.

“Hey! Don’t you go for that axe head!” I hear Audrey’s voice.

I have to laugh at that, “I wasn’t even thinking about it,” and it’s actually true, “But, unfortunately, the gun is gone, and for once it wasn’t me.”

So, it’s me and Julia, versus Nathan and Audrey, on the other side of the room.

“What the hell just happened?” I put out there.

“Exactly what a predator would want,” Nathan answers, after a little while, “Every man for himself.”

“Damn,” I hear from Julia, ah, it’s a cheese knife in her hand, “Someone took the lantern on their way out,” she finishes by way of explanation.

“We’ll just have to use candles,” Audrey moves over to the table. There are some candles by the cheese platter. There’s a moment where she and Julia eye each other over the knife, but then Audrey goes over to the fire place and lights one of the candles. I retrieve my bottle. I’ve never been one to turn down liquid courage.

“Duke, would you mind?” Audrey’s holding out the candle to me.

“Sure. Why not?” I take it with my free hand.

“Alright. Let’s check the generator, shall we?” This is the point in the horror movie where if people split up, everyone dies, so sticking together is good, “Actually...Duke can I have that back?”

Whatever. I offer her the candle given my mouth is currently occupied swallowing wine. She moves out into the hall. Maybe Old Man Carpenter showed her the switches while she was making nice to find out about her mother?

We do find another lantern which Audrey lights from her candle, but she elects to keep the candle so I keep the lantern, better knife-wielding Julia has her hands free and Nathan has a flashlight he turned on a while ago. Ever the Boy Scout. Continuing his Boy Scouting he checks the generator and diagnoses it with the brilliant, “Well, it isn’t the breakers.”

So, either he’s the chameleon and he’s lying, or the chameleon _really_ screwed things up.

“This place has got to have a back-up generator,” Audrey points out, “We need to split up and find it.”

Horror movie.

“Hang on,” I stop her from walking past me, “You said that we should stick together.”

“There are four people who are sitting ducks in the dark,” of course Nathan is on her side, “We need to get to them before the chameleon does and that’ll be a lot easier with the lights on,” and if one of them is the chameleon it’ll give them the perfect opportunity to sneak up on us.

“Man up,” Audrey snits at me and stalks off.

“That would be a lot easier if I still had my axe!” I shout back at her, though if I finish this bottle I can break it and that would be something.

“I’ve got your back, Boss,” Julia answers, taking me right back to us working on the _Cape_ and me being sick as a dog.   
“Thank you,” is all I can say to that though, as I try to sort out where the hell we are by using lantern light, “Splitting up,” worst idea ever, “could at least have split into pairs,” though if they want to go off into the darkness by themselves that’s fine. I imagine if Julia was the chameleon she’d already have come after me with the cheese knife.

“I don’t trust her,” she says, softly as we start to walk to who knows where.

“I don’t trust anyone,” it’s almost automatic, but she’s there and really seems to be herself, and she’s always been there, at least when she’s been physically here, “Except you.”

We’re straggling halls and I’m beginning to wish I’d brought chalk to mark our way (though where I would have found it I don’t know) like some twisted fairy tale, when I kick _something_ and for a moment I think the death rattle is—I don’t know—the chameleon in snake form. The lantern shows us the truth—a tiny tricycle. Great. Death by kids’ toy.

“This is why you don’t throw people birthday parties,” I tell her.

She doesn’t say anything to that and I wonder if I struck a nerve somewhere, but if Julia was pissed off about it she would tell me and besides us looking for the dumb back up generator that may or may not exist is leaving the radio open to further sabotage, which is probably exactly what’s happened to any back-up generator—if it exists, which I point out to her. She seems to agree.

“We should be holing up somewhere and working on a way to call for help,” I finish.

“Back to the party room?” she suggests.

“Back to the party room,” I agree, “Before the damn thing messes up my radio.”

It takes a little while to make our way back, and it seems the radio has been left alone. I need both hands to work on it, though, so I give Julia the lantern and she stands guard. Things are going as well as they can in a dark, creepy house where a murderer is on the loose, but then a woman’s voice—well, scream, and some loud, heavy, thumping sounds cut through the latent calm.


	8. End of the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chameleon is found but so is a dead body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dialogue from s01e09, episode 9 "As They Were" and from "Back in Town" by Ryxl, which is posted on DW at moonshadows.

 

There are only two women on the island except Julia, and that unfortunately sounded more like Eleanor than Audrey. I drop the tools and grab the lantern from Julia so that we can go and see what’s happened though I’m full of dread at the idea of her potentially seeing her broken mother on the floor somewhere outside of the room. We slowly make our way to the doorway and there outside in the hall is the Chief, and the lantern light clearly shows, unfortunately, Eleanor Carr lying extremely still at the bottom of the stairs.

I don’t think there’s anyway she’s alive.

“Mom?” Julia asks, shakily.

“I’m sorry,” the Chief says turning to us, “She’s gone.”

Julia is shaking, understandably. I put my arm around her shoulders holding her steady. The scream has drawn everyone out from the shadows of the house as Chief covers Eleanor with a dust sheet from one of the random furniture pieces scattered about the house, speculations as to why the chameleon hasn’t taken Eleanor over, or maybe it has and there’s another Eleanor somewhere and this was just a horrible accident. Chief walked in on the chameleon too soon; or is Chief…?

Chief who is saying, “--maybe it didn’t have enough time, panicked, and took off.”

The lights come back on and a moment later Audrey and Nathan reappear. They start to explain that there was indeed a back-up generator but then see the body and stop still.

I tighten my arms around Julia given she’s turned to face my chest, holding me tightly. She makes a whimpering noise and I hug her closer not wanting to move until she’s ready, but at the same time I want to get her away from her mother’s body. I move us slowly back towards the party room given the others have apparently found something. She walks with me but I’m not sure that she’s paying attention though, her face is still buried in my shirt. I try to take the knife from her but she won’t let go of it so I leave that alone. Maybe the weapon is some comfort considering the situation.

I’m not entirely sure what the big deal is about a crack in the wall. It’s an old house. They settle. They break. Nathan has—is Nathan _kissing_ Audrey?

HE’S SHOT HER.

“Nathan—what--?”

But then I see her face is distorting and weird.

“You killed my friend,” Nathan accuses, crouched over the—the chameleon.

It—he? Asks how Nathan knew but I don’t hear what Nathan answers.

“What did you do?” Vince of the Teagues is accusatory but at the same time he’s not close enough to see the weirdness that is Audrey’s face distorting as she—he talks.

“She’s the chameleon.” Nathan all but snaps back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” I’m taken back to childhood and being told that ‘what thought did’ and ‘intention leads to Hell’ by at least one teacher, “The doctor...the doctor, she saw who I was...and Audrey...I was weakening and I thought she could help me: like Lucy.”

I keep my arm around Julia. She’s no longer nesting in my chest, but she’s not entirely upright, which is not surprising.

“If you thought she could help then why did you kill her?” Nathan asks.

“She’s different. She—she should have died...”

She’s not dead?

“She’s alive? Where is she? Where is she?” Nathan demands.

I don’t hear what is said in answer to that but Nathan hands Chief back his gun somehow the sly bastard got that before either Julia or me, and barrels out of the room missing Julia and me by fractions of an inch. I follow and Julia follows me.

We’re just passed where Carpenter’s skin suit was, some sort of storage room, I guess. Someone turns the lights on. Audrey is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a large trunk which would certainly be big enough for a body. I help Nathan open it, and there she is. She looks limp and lifeless. We’re both crouched near though and Nathan closest says she’s alive and then, “Julia—some help?”

Julia kneels down next to me, and checks her over and then demands disinfectant for some strange reason.

“I don’t think she needs to be disinfected...” I point out, but she’s got the liquid and she’s putting it on some kind of rag.

“The ammonia will act as a smelling salt,” she explains as Audrey is already stirring from the stuff being wafted under her nose, “Audrey? Can you hear me?” there’s a pause while Julia is not exactly fussing at her again but then she says, “She’s going to be okay.”

“Parker, you’re gonna be okay,” Nathan urges, gripping her hands tightly.

There’s a moan from Audrey and then she says, hoarsely, “Are you crying? Because crying will not be tolerated.”

Nathan helps her out of the trunk and back down the hall. I keep close to Julia given we have to walk near her mother’s body again to get back to the party room. I get her to sit on the couch with Audrey while I finish with the radio, and then call in what’s happened. Then it’s the dreaded waiting given the boat has to get prepped and then wend it’s way to us.

In the mean time Dave cuts up Audrey’s birthday cake and hands pieces about. I eat a little given there needs to be something else in my stomach besides wine, which I’m now sharing with Julia as she eats cake too. I feel more tired than I have in a while but then I haven’t slept since the day before. My brilliant idea to just stay up the rest of the night before picking up the real Audrey to come to this Island of Death.

Death Island—that sounds better. I manage to not laugh out loud at that considering the mood everyone’s in, and not wanting to explain the sick joke or come up with something better—what could be better?

No one else seems to be in much mood for talking either. But people do go back and forth bringing bags down from rooms and then there are the false starts of conversation and I think I must nod off at some point because I’m startled by the knock on the door and to find Julia still laying against me.

Eleanor’s body is carried out by cops from town, and we follow to the boat. Me keeping my arm around Julia who almost falls when we get to the edge of the dock. I pick her up and carry her over onto the deck, and we sit on the deck of the boat inside the cabin with the others.

She leans against me as we ‘sail’ back to Haven proper and the rhythm of the boat has me falling asleep again, though I think some of the contentment comes from the ‘wench’ at my side as she has been before but then she was comforting me.

If only the circumstances were better. Hopefully they will be soon—despite the fact that this is Haven and it’s always going to be full of Troubles.


End file.
